Who ran off with me to Las Vegas to get married.
Who busted his ass at a mall job for years, to put us both through school.
Who takes out the trash and does laundry every week, carries all the heavy stuff, and indulges my periodic urges to randomly rearrange furniture. Who faithfully oversees all our grilling.
Who never held my dorkiness against me. Who bravely chauffeurs us around Atlanta.
Who looks this handsome in crappy, low-light photos.
Whose cute picture I took in the grocery store this morning got totally eaten by the new phone. (Dammit.) Who's the world's greatest husband (i.e. sous chef, housemate, best friend, and partner).
I love you baby.